The Last Light
by deionscribe
Summary: Just a little 'pilot'/writing exercise for what might be my first fanfiction project here on the site. I've been tempted to make something like this for a while after stumbling upon info on the Metro 2033 universe. Criticism is well appreciated for this first time work. 'Oneshot'inspired by what I read up on the novel and what I've watched so far on both of the games.


_I remember so many random, unnecessary things, yet I don't remember the most important one: my Mother's face. She died very soon after the War started, and all that remains of her is that day in the Gardens. How I wish I could recall her face... the way she looked at me... the way she whispered that I have nothing to fear. I'd sell my soul just to recall that. I'd do that any day, any time. And I did._

The face he saw on the mirror was that of a stranger, yet Artyom knew that it was his own. But the man staring back at him, a man both marred and haunted beyond reckoning by his actions, was a far cry from the thoughtful but inexperienced youth that had taken his first step out from the expo for his journey to Polis.

Now, here he was again, staring at himself, still days fresh from Ostankino and the deed he had done there. The scars on the right side of his face had faded somewhat, but they were still enough of a striking red to contrast with his tanned skin. But his physical state was nowhere near as painful as the inner turmoil that he wrestled, now, that he could see raging in his guilt-ridden eyes.

They were the eyes of a murderer, of a sinner.

_We want peace_, the words came to mind again, now more an accusation than the plea he had heard it as the first time around. Artyom let out a shaky breath as he hung his head low over the sink, willing the tears not to come. They called him a hero, the Savior of the Metro, who already had legends being told about him. To them, he was a boy from a backwater station who saved all of Humanity from demons invading from the surface.

It was a safe lie, but a painful one nonetheless.

A sound caused him to turn toward the washroom entrance. A familiar old man stood by the doorframe, arms crossed and face seemingly impassive, but his eyes stared straight at him with clear disappointment.

He frowned. Of all the people who would come looking for him in Polis, he was the last one he wanted to see. Artyom turned back to facing the mirror, focusing again on his haunted eyes even as he found himself speaking up. "Shouldn't you be long gone, now, Khan?"

No reply comes. Not that he expected any. Even though he hadn't told anyone about the vision on the tower, Artyom suspected that the old wanderer knew he was hiding something. Again, it was one of the many mysteries about the self-styled wolf among jackals that made the young Ranger nervous whenever he was with him. Nevertheless, Artyom had to admit that if it weren't for Khan and his advice, he wouldn't have gotten as far as he did.

_But in the end, all that failed me when it really mattered_, he thought bitterly. Because of him, the Dark Ones were wiped out, the Botanical Gardens destroyed in flames when the missiles from D6 had struck. But right before their demise, they had reached out to him one last time, brought him to a dreamscape of his making as they tried to show him that they came in peace. He had remembered then how a Dark One had saved him as a child that day, how it had briefly shown him a clear memory of his mother.

All that, and he repaid them by burning them and thei hive out of existence.

From the corner of his eye, Artyom glanced at Khan, his stoic mask cracking to reveal the guilt and anguish that was raging inside of him. "How do you do it, Khan?" he asked softly, and at the older man's confusion he continued "How do you forget? How do you wash away the things that you've done?"

Khan's expression seemed to soften as his eyes remained settled on him. "You don't" he replied in an equally quiet tone, "You just learn to live with it".

"And how can I? How can I live knowing that everything I may have done was wrong in the end?" He couldn't fully admit it. Willingly or not, he was trying to justify his actions on the spot. He had killed the Dark Ones as revenge for Eugene, Vitali, and everyone who had died at his station. He had burned their nest to cinders out of a conviction to protect his home and the rest of Metro. But the doubt, and the terrifying truth, still hung over him like a shadow.

For a moment, Khan stood there as he silently regarded the Ranger, then he let out a wary sigh as he turned to walk out. "We can't take back what we've done, Artyom" he intoned sadly. "Now, we must reap what we have sown".

Even as he watched the wanderer depart for what may be the last time, Artyom knew exactly what he meant. He fell into the cycle like so many others. And now, thanks to him, he'd destroyed their only salvation.


End file.
